


Of Pens and Swords

by vienn_peridot



Series: Fins and Feet [6]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: AU: Humanformers, Abuse, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bathing/Washing, Bullying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Drama, Drama & Romance, Family Issues, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Interracial Relationship, Lesbophobia, Misogyny, Multi, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tribadism, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-04-01 12:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4019542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vienn_peridot/pseuds/vienn_peridot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ratchet's determination and acid tongue are the stuff legend at Rodion Public High School.<br/>However her final year brings a relationship she never expected and challenges like nothing she has ever faced before.</p><p>(Tags will be updated as story progresses; main warnings up for a start. Please read Note at the start of the fic.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally inspired by Nospear’s Schoolgirl Hell Dratchet pictures on Tumblr.  
> This is based on experiences that myself and close friends went through, further informed by the life stories of others. The school is based on a combination of my host school in Japan and my own school in New Zealand. I am borrowing from my host school for the setting, my own school for the actions of the bullies. This is a work of fiction and is in no way a comment on my host school. (Those were honestly the best 10 months of my life)  
> Personally I do not ascribe to populist gender politics and this may become more apparent as the story progresses. You are welcome to nope the fuck away from this fic at any point.

Ratchet couldn't believe she'd made it this far. 

New school year, new classroom, same faces.

Well, mostly the same. There had been about a half-dozen transfers both into and out of their school. Some of those leaving had come from Ratchet’s class and she wasn’t sad to see them go.

_Good riddance._

It meant fewer distractions. At the end of the year Ratchet would take the exams for Deltaran University, home of the most prestigious medical school the world had to offer. She couldn't afford to lose sight of that goal. Others apparently either didn't _have_ goals or just weren't as focused on them as Ratchet was. As usual, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were causing a ruckus. Sideswipe had both of their class schedules and was refusing to give Sun his until he promised something ridiculous Ratchet couldn’t hear and didn't want to know about. She left if it for the class representatives to sort out and wandered out onto the balcony that ran along the front of the building.

_First floor. Wow._

Third Years’ homerooms were on the first floor, on the ground floor below were classrooms and the school canteen for staff and the students who could afford to buy their lunches. Second Year classrooms were on the second floor and First Years had to tramp all the way up to the third floor. Ratchet wrinkled her nose at the memory of all those steps and the suffocating heat they built up at the top of the building during the height of summer.

Crossing her arms and leaning on the railing Ratchet watched the midday scurry of students between buildings from much closer than she’d gotten used to over the last year. It wasn’t raining but cold spring breezes meant people still wore scarves if they had to be outside for longer than a few minutes. The wind gusted, grabbing hold of long red hair and whipping it into her eyes.

_I should have gotten that cut during the holidays._

She was growling and digging into her pocket for a hairtie when a familiar voice hailed her from the next floor up.

“The medusa look suits you, Ginge.”

Ratchet looked up to see an all-too-familiar face grinning down at her. Wide blue eyes, elegant nose, dark skin and naturally silver hair that currently had large chunks of an extremely _un_ natural red in it.

_Oh shit. I thought Drift would have dropped out by now_.

Ratchet found the hairtie she’d been looking for and forced her hair into it, glaring at Drift the entire time. That cocky smile didn’t waver, Drift was obviously waiting for some kind of reaction and Ratchet wasn’t going to rise to the bait. She’d done so often enough last year when Drift was a mouthy little First Year who didn’t know her place.

It was time for some payback.

Ratchet crossed her arms again and leaned her back against the railing, ignoring Sun and Sides’ enraged shouting match from her own classroom and gave Drift a thorough once-over before continuing to stare the younger woman out.

_Big mistake_.

Drift had grown up in the two months they hadn’t seen each other, somehow managing to cram the entire awkward growing stage of puberty into that tiny two month gap. It just wasn’t fair.

_Some people have all the bloody luck_.

The younger woman was several inches taller than she remembered, probably coming up to Ratchet’s nose now. She hadn’t bought a new uniform skirt so Ratchet could see elegantly muscled thighs curving between the skirt hem and those damned scruffy-looking loose socks Drift always wore. Hips and chest had filled out, giving her the slightly bottom-heavy hourglass shape that Ratchet had coveted since the first time she’d opened a magazine to see pictures of models photoshopped into impossibly elegant shapes.

_Oh fuck_.

Ratchet scowled and Drift’s smile wavered a little.

“What do you want, Drift?” Ratchet took care to enunciate each word clearly to make Drift more aware of her own lower-class speech.

Something like hurt flickered across the white-haired girl’s face and Ratchet felt a moment of petty victory before more bodies slammed into the railings on either side of Drift. A short, dark-skinned girl with naturally dreadlocked hair and the eternally red-faced and angry guy who went by ‘Cliffjumper’. The shouting coming from Ratchet's classroom stopped and she contemplated escaping back inside. 

“Hey Drift, who ya talkin’ to over here?” Jazz asked, peering down at the first-floor balcony.

“Not the Ice Queen, surely!” Cliffjumper scoffed. “Brrr, look at that glare! I’m outta here before she freezes me to the spot.”

The red-faced guy vanished from the peanut gallery and Ratchet suddenly realised how easy it would be for the Second-years to throw things at her. Not that they would, this school wasn’t the quality she could have attended but it was far from the worst. Still, old lessons stuck with you.

“How’s it going, Ratch’?” Jazz called cheerfully, leaning comfortably against Drift’s shoulder.

“Not bad.” The redhead replied, tilting her head until she felt the tug of her hair caught between her back and the railing. “You?”

“Great!” Jazz chirped, “It’s awesome not having to climb all the way to the top of the building to get to homeroom!”

The bell rang, keeping Ratchet from having to continue the awkward conversation. She pushed herself away from the railing and stomped towards the homeroom door, blatantly ignoring the pair of younger women.

“Bye Ratch’!” Jazz yelled, the words probably audible from the other side of the sports field.

Ratchet heard them clearly even though she’d already slammed the door behind her.

Even without the shouting it wasn’t much calmer than when she’d left.

Sunstreaker was hunched over his sketchpad with that particular set to his shoulders the entire class had learned to be wary of. Sideswipe wasn’t around, probably hauled out into the corridor by someone to keep him from riling his twin into earning them both detention on the first day of the new school year. They didn’t have allocated seating this year so Ratchet and Wing had taken the opportunity to claim desks beside each other. Wing was frowning at the class timetable and pulling at her hair the way she did when thinking about something.

“I have no idea how I’m going to keep up with all the homework for these classes as well as Kendo training,” Wing said as Ratchet pulled her chair closer and flopped flopped into it, leaning over to read Wing’s copy of the timetable. “The World Championships are next year; I _can’t_ miss training at all if I want to compete but we’ve got University Entrance Exams this year and Dai still wants me to pass them even if I’ve already got that special entry thing.” Her voice shook slightly.

“Wing, the school year hasn’t even started already.” Ratchet slid her hand on top of the paper, hiding the timetable that was freaking Wing out and forcing herself to sound much calmer than she felt at the reminder of how badly she needed to pass those exams and pass them well. “One day at a time, ok? You’ve got this.”

Wing looked up and met Ratchet’s eyes, giving the redhead a lopsided smile.

“I guess I shouldn’t complain, since I’ve already been accepted and everything. I don’t have as much riding on these exams as you do, Ratch.” She took the timetable and slid it into her bag, luckily missing the frown Ratchet couldn’t hide.

_Yeah, I’ve only got_ everything _to prove._

“We’ll _both_ be fine, Wing. I guarantee it.” Ratchet promised, quickly scooting her chair back to its proper place as their teacher entered the room with an annoyed-looking Sideswipe in tow.

Wing only had time to whisper something about Sideswipe and detention before the teacher called for silence and afternoon classes began.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another day in the life of Drift.

Drift pulled into the back gate of the school at full speed, leaping from her bike at the last minute and locking it safely in her assigned spot in the bike racks. Turmoil’s goons had chased her halfway to the next town before she could get around them. The gang had been increasing their attempts to recruit her since the end of last year. She hated it but couldn’t do jack shit to stop them. By now everyone assumed it was simply a matter of time before Drift dropped out of school to join one gang or other and Turmoil seemed absolutely determined that she would be joining him.

Swearing under her breath Drift grabbed her bag and slung it across the other shoulder from her _shinai_ and charged towards the school building, slowing at the last minute to open the door quietly. Today the people Turmoil had sent to pester her had tried to box Drift into an alley halfway to Rodion High and she’d to go miles out of her way to get past them and finally make it to the school grounds.

Nobody seemed to care that Drift didn’t want to join _any_ gang. There was more to life than Rodion and she wanted to go see it. Realistically she knew she didn’t have much of a chance to escape but if she was going to end up in a gang Drift was going to make damn sure she did her best to finish school first, just to shove it in the faces of everyone who thought wouldn’t be able to do it.

Every time this kind of thing happened it made finishing school just that little bit more unlikely. She’d missed already homeroom and the first class of the day and second period was already halfway done as she hurried through the quiet corridors, forcing herself to take deep breaths and finger-combing her sweaty hair into something like an actual style.

Heading past the admin block Drift jogged around a corner and almost ran someone down. The other girl sort of wavered on her feet as Drift jumped nimbly back to avoid the collision, stumbling and almost landing on her ass when she saw who she’d nearly run into.

It was Ratchet.

No way to mistake her for anyone else in school, not with those eyes and that bright mane of hair.

“What are you doing out of class?” Drift blurted, shocked by the sight of Miss Proper walking through the corridors during class time.

Ratchet couldn’t exactly ignore Drift this time. Not with the younger woman accidentally blocking the entire corridor with her practice sword. She stopped two steps away, deliberately invading Drift’s personal space in an openly hostile move. Drift fought the urge to step back to give Ratchet some room, inhaling the scent of orange juice as well as something spicy and sweet that always seemed to float around the older girl. Drift would be lying if she said she hadn’t spent some of last year trying to find out what kind of perfume it was.

“I’m going home.” The redhead snapped, glowering at Drift. “You’re blocking the corridor. Move, please.”

Up close Drift could see that Ratchet was paler than usual, her freckles stood out like mud splatters and she was actually shaking a little bit. It made the messy strands of hair around her face tremble. Drift felt a surge of worry and didn’t bother to cover it with her usual cheek. There was nobody around to see, so it didn’t matter.

“Hey, are you alright?” She asked, tilting her head and frowning. “You don’t look so good.”

“Which is _why_ I’m going home.” Ratchet took a deep breath, running her had through her hair. “Or I would be if you’d just _stop blocking the bloody corridor!_ ”

“You’ve seen the nurse, right?” Drift

“Yes.” Ratchet growled through gritted teeth.

“So what did she say?”

Drift loved the absolutely stunned expression on Ratchet’s face. It was like the redhead didn’t believe that Drift could hold a conversation with her that didn’t involve sass.

“There’s bugger-all they can do for dysmenorrhea except stick me in the corner to wait it out.” Ratchet sounded resigned. “It’s not contagious and no, painkillers don’t work.”

“I’m going to look that up.” Drift said, jerking her chin up. “So you’d better not be taking the piss.” She pulled her phone out and flipped it open, pulling up a blank text screen. “How do you spell it?”

She glanced up at Ratchet when the older girl didn’t say anything and wished she could risk taking a picture. The redhead was standing there with her mouth hanging open, staring at Drift like she’d just started speaking another language.

“Drift! There you are!”

Drift turned slowly to see Deputy Principal Rodimus standing behind her, arms folded across her chest and glaring. Rodimus was the only teacher in the school who seemed to think Drift could be more than a dropout so it was _very_ hard not to shrink before the particular brand of ‘I’m Very Disappointed In You’ look Rodimus had perfected during her career and was now using on Drift.

“I know that Ratchet has a perfectly good reason to be out of class right now, but I you haven’t shown up to homeroom _or_ first period today.” Rodimus said, still talking to Drift. “You are coming with me to explain yourself.”

Drift kept her eyes on her shoes as Rodimus steered her towards the admin block. She muttered an apology but didn’t even risk looking at Ratchet as they swept past. Her face was burning and she didn’t want to see the redhead looking down her nose at her, giving Drift that same superior _look_ everyone else did when the delinquent was put in her place.

_I know she thinks I’m annoying but I don’t want to know if she hates me, too_.

In the safety of Rodimus’ office the Deputy dropped the angry face, flopping into her obscenely ugly office chair and giving Drift a concerned look instead.

“What was it this time, Drift? Did the power get cut off again?”

Drift winced. When the power went out she often overslept and was late for school. Public assisted housing meant she had four walls, a roof and a door that locked but not much else. And the roof leaked, too. She shook her head and dropped her bag and _shinai_ on the floor beside one of the guest chairs, sinking into it and running her hands through her hair.

“It’s was Turmoil’s goons again. They’ve gotten really persistent over the holidays. I’m just glad they haven’t figured out which building I live in yet.” Drift admitted.

Rodimus frowned and picked up a pen, tapping it to her lips before doodling something on the massive pad of paper that took pride of place in the middle of her desk.

“If you keep missing classes you’re going to need tutoring to pass this year.” Rodimus said, meeting Drift’s eyes significantly. “I know Turmoil has the local police bribed or blackmailed to look the other way when it comes to his recruiting activities, so that’s a no-go. We could also arrange for a carpool to pick you up,” Drift shook her head frantically and Rodimus sighed, scrawling something on her paper. “So tutoring it is. I’ll try to find someone tolerable; just don’t wind them up, alright? You’re going to need their help to pass the year.”

Drift scowled as the class-change bell rang in the corridor outside.

“What I _need_ is someone to take Turmoil and everyone who works for him and turn them into dog food.” Drift growled, standing and picking up her gear.

She nodded at Rodimus and went to join the throngs of students in the corridors, ignoring the weird looks and whispered comments from First Years who weren’t used to her hair yet. They’d get over it and join the ranks of those who looked down on her soon enough. Jazz and Cliffjumper had saved her a seat between them in the art room and Drift slipped in between them, heaving a sigh of relief and hoping this meant her day would get better.

It didn’t get better, but with Jazz and Cliff acting as buffers it didn’t get much worse.

When it finally ended Drift offered to give Jazz a lift to the train station to try to throw off any of Turmoil’s recruiters that might be hanging around waiting for her. She cycled slowly out of the school gates, Jazz perched on the pack rack behind her. The chunky headphones Jazz seemed to be grafted to were currently sitting around her neck, blasting some obscenely cheerful song Drift didn’t understand a single word of. Actually, Drift couldn’t even tell if there _were_ words in this particular piece of music but it didn’t seem to matter to Jazz.

“I’m so glad that’s over,” Drift grumbled. “Today sucked.”

Jazz tossed her head, dreadlocks flicking across Drift’s back.

“What? Just because you didn’t get to pester the Ice Queen at lunch?” The dark-skinned girl teased, flashing a grin over her shoulder. “I heard she passed out in First Period and had to be carried to the Nurse’s Office.”

“She WHAT?!” Drift slammed on the brakes, planted her feet on the ground and turned to stare at Jazz.

Who wasn’t there.

Jazz was sprawled on the ground right in the path of the baseball team who were coming back from their warm-up jog around the block. As usual, Prowl was in the lead and to Drift’s surprise the Third-Year boy motioned the person behind him to continue leading before he stopped, crouching beside Jazz as people swirled around them.

“Are you alright?” Prowl asked, holding a hand out to Jazz. He helped pull the startled girl to her feet and Drift saw the red smear on his palm when they let go.

“Jazz, you’re bleeding.” Drift said, digging in her bag for something to clean it up with. “I’m so sorry.”

When Drift found what she was looking for –a half-empty pack of baby wipes- she pulled one out and tried to give it to Jazz. Prowl grabbed it instead, glaring at her like she had deliberately pushed Jazz to the ground.

_I fucking hate that look. I really do._

“It’s dangerous to let someone ride on the back of your bike like that.” Prowl said frostily, “This girl needs to go to the nurse’s office.”

Coming on top of the rest of the day Prowl's attitude was just too much.

“Jazz has a _name_ , asshole.” Drift snapped.

“Drift, don’t.” Jazz warned. “I’m fine, it’s just a scrape. I’ll deal with it when I get home.”

“No, you won’t.” Prowl said, taking Jazz firmly by the arm. “I’m taking you to the nurse’s office to make sure it doesn’t get infected _and_ I’ll make sure that delinquent gets reported for dangerous behaviour _and_ swearing at a senior.”

There was no graceful way out of this, not with half the school standing around and watching the drama unfold. Jazz was twitching her head insistently, trying to signal Drift to leave before one of the bystanders decided to escalate the situation.

“Fine, do whatever the fuck you want if it makes you feel important.” Drift lifted her chin defiantly and pulled her anger around herself like armour. “See you tomorrow, Jazz.”

Standing on her pedals Drift tore through a gap in the crowd so fast she didn’t even hear if Jazz replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus uses one of those massive A2 desk pads to keep from ruining the office furniture.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet gets frustrated then flustered by a certain Second-Year

It was Ratchet’s free class and she was fuming at having to waste it in the library, doing make-up work from the classes she’d missed earlier in the week. Some of the teachers were understanding about sick days but some of them –the chemistry teacher Perceptor in particular- seemed to make the catch-up work harder than what was actually covered in class.

If she didn’t need the grounding in chemistry so badly then Ratchet would gladly tell Perceptor to shove this set of questions up his ass.

_It wasn’t_ my _fault I missed the class. This is so unfair._

The noise coming in from outside didn’t help, either. The Second Years apparently had PE at this time of day because she could clearly hear several very familiar voices through the open windows. Sunshine and fresh air poured into the library (along with the noise) to taunt everyone stuck inside.  It was one of the last few nice days they’d get before Autumn brought pouring rain, but there would be other nice days and these brain-bending chemistry questions would bring Ratchet one step closer to her goals so she forced her attention back to the question sheet.

Several loud blasts from the PE teacher’s whistle send Ratchet hunting through her bag for headphones to block out the rest of the noise. Familiar voices made her pause briefly before resuming the search for her headphones, matching names to the voices.

_Cliffjumper, Jazz and Drift. I just can’t escape them, can I?_

According to the school grapevine there had been some sort of confrontation outside the school gates the day Ratchet had been sent home sick. Wing had texted her about it and Ratchet had heard more than enough about it over the last couple of days. It seemed to be all the school could talk about at the moment and it was driving Ratchet up the wall.

The rumours all involved Drift, Jazz and Prowl but the details varied wildly. Some said Drift and Jazz got into a fight and Prowl had to pull Drift off the other girl. Others said that _Prowl_ and Drift were fighting and when Jazz tried to break it up Drift knocked her down. Some of the more out-there ones had Drift attacking Prowl out of the blue and Jazz getting hurt trying to defend the boy.

The only thing the rumours agreed on was that Drift was in the wrong and Jazz ended up bleeding all the way to the school nurse with Prowl acting like a big angry guard dog.

_They don’t sound angry at each other so most of that crap must be wrong._

Drift and Jazz’s voices were the loudest of those drifting in through the open window as they cheerfully heckled each other at the top of their lungs.

It was very distracting.

_Especially_ when Jazz said something particularly audacious about Drift’s new figure being the only reason her team was winning so easily. There were no headphones in sight and Ratchet fought the urge to hit her forehead against the table as Drift yelled something back, ignoring the hoots of their classmates.

_Yes, I_ know _she’s attractive. Thanks, Jazz_.

By the time the end-of-day bell rang Ratchet was about ready to throttle someone and she wasn’t sure if the chemistry teacher or one of the Second Years would be a more satisfying target. Despite the noise she’d somehow managed to get the chemistry work done and was hoping to hand it in and get the hell off school grounds before giving into the desire to damage someone.

_I’ll just go drop this in Perceptor’s tray then go home._

It just wasn’t to be.

On the way to the teacher’s offices she ran into the class of Second Years heading back to their classroom in one giant mass. Ratchet managed to make decent headway against the flood of noisy people moving in the opposite direction, gritting her teeth and reminding herself that she needed to keep her temper under control.

Out of nowhere someone grabbed her bag and swung Ratchet around. She let herself move with the pull on her bag, bracing herself and raising an arm as she turned to slap her attacker. He hands stopped dead in mid-air when she saw Drift glaring up at her.

_Is she angry at me?_

Drift was standing so close it was impossible to miss the way she was still sweating spending the last hour tearing around the field, sticking her shirt to her shoulders and other places Ratchet was determined NOT to look at. Her hair was spiking out everywhere, the red and silver strands messy in an elegant I-did-it-on-purpose way Ratchet wouldn’t be able to achieve even with hours wasted in front of a mirror. Drift frowned and the redhead realised she’d been accidentally giving the younger woman a death glare she didn’t exactly deserve.

“What?” Ratchet asked, wondering what the hell was going on.

“I said your name, like, a million times or something but you were completely out of it.” Drift’s frown didn’t change and Ratchet blinked stupidly, trying to pull her brain out of the stall it seemed to be in. “I just wanted to ask if you were feeling any better.”

“Huh?”

Ratchet wanted to kick herself.

_Great, one look from big blue eyes and I’m reduced to monosyllables._

There were fewer people around now; Drift’s classmates were long gone. Drift finally seemed to remember that she was still holding on to the strap of Ratchet’s bag and standing far too close to the redhead for their conversation to be casual. She let go of Ratchet’s bag as if it burned her and stepped back, running a hand through her hair and looking off to the side.

“You know, when I saw you the other morning and you said you weren’t well.” Drift said, flushing a dull red. She mumbled something else too low for Ratchet to hear properly.

Ratchet blinked a few times then finally, _finally_ her brain started working again.

“Oh, that. No, I’m fine now.” This was so completely surreal Ratchet didn’t know what to say. “Um, thank you.”

She didn’t know what she was thanking Drift for. If it was for the concern or for caring enough to ask or for something else entirely, for just remembering that she existed beyond their lunchtime games of snark tennis.

Whatever it was, Drift seemed to understand because she smiled, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Ratchet fought the irrational desire to reach out and grab the younger woman’s hands.

“Ok, cool.” Drift sounded relieved and Ratchet couldn’t help but wonder why. “Just, um, look after yourself, ok?” Drift blurted awkwardly.

Then Jazz was poked her head around the corner and yelled something and Drift was running, running away down the corridor, waving and saying something over her shoulder that was too rushed for Ratchet to catch and they were gone, leaving her standing in the middle of an empty hallway wondering what the hell had just happened.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of Ratchet's day brings some unexpected ups and downs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs for this chapter:  
> Ratchet: 'Stand my Ground' -Within Temptation & 'Magnet' -Megurine Luke+Hatsune Miku  
> Drift: 'Nicest Thing' -Kate Nash & 'Crushcrushcrush' -Paramore.

Ratchet got called to the principal’s office fairly often but apparently not _quite_ often enough for it to pass beneath the notice of her classmates.

Every single time it happened someone would inevitably pipe up with ‘Ooooooh _some_ body’s in trou-ble’ and Ratchet would respond with something cutting and the teacher would have to step in before it turned into a mud-slinging match. As final-years they were allowed a certain amount of leeway when it came to their behaviour but these days Ratchet just didn’t seem to know when to keep her mouth shut. The extra work required to sit entrance exams for Deltaran University on top of the usual final-year workload was already starting to get to her.

She almost ended up in trouble for foul language anyway. Luckily for her Sunstreaker was the one doing the shouting when Perceptor walked into the chemistry lab so he copped the detention, all Ratchet had to do was write a letter of apology.

_Wing’s right. I’m working too hard but I’ve got no choice!_

After-bell tidy up went faster than usual so Ratchet was treated to an even longer wait than normal in the corridor outside the Principal’s office, listening to heavy rain pounding on the roof. Ultra Magnus was always punctual but there would probably be a delay toady. Principal Magnus was currently sharing her office with Rodimus after a prankster had attempted to re-paint the deputy’s office by shoving fireworks into a can of paint.

Magnus and Rodimus in a small space for any length of time was a potentially lethal combination. It took so long that Ratchet started to worry that they’d killed each other at some point during the last class and nobody had noticed.

Eventually the door opened and Rodimus slipped out. Ratchet caught sight of Magnus slumped face-down asleep on the desk before Rodimus closed the door with a look of intense concentration, ensuring it didn’t even click as the lock engaged. Rodimus pressed a finger to her lips and jerked a thumb back over her shoulder at the closed door and the sleeping Principal behind it, beckoning Ratchet to follow as she lead the way to the teacher’s staffroom.

Ratchet followed obediently, wondering if she had just witnessed a poisoning.

“Sorry about that.” The Deputy Principal said as the staffroom door closed behind them. “Mags pulled an all-nighter last night and I’ve been _trying_ to get her to go home and have a nap but _of course_ she wouldn’t listen.” Rodimus ran a hand through her hair and sighed. “She conked out by herself about an hour ago. This shouldn’t take long but let’s sit down anyway.”

Rodimus flopped onto one of the soft chairs and Ratchet followed suit, perching on the edge because even though she wasn’t about to refuse the hospitality she still felt a bit weird sitting in the teacher’s break room.

“Now, Magnus got an email from Deltaran saying they’ve made some changes to entry requirements for their next student intake.” Rodimus started and Ratchet felt her stomach drop into her shoes. It must have shown on her fact because Rodimus made soothing gestures and continued; “Hey, don’t panic. We’re aware of your career goals and we’ve figured out a way to give you the best possible chance to get into Deltaran without making the workload completely impossible.”

Ratchet let out the breath she wasn’t aware she’d been holding.

“The best option is becoming a tutor in subjects you are already advanced in to make up the necessary extra-curricular activities as well as the study component of what Deltaran is now asking.” The deputy principal explained. “Would you be willing to tutor a younger student for a few hours a week? It’s not the only option, by any means. It’s just the most efficient.”

Chewing her lip, Ratchet thought it over.

If Rodimus was bringing this up then obviously they already had someone in mind for her to tutor, someone who needed the extra help. _Surely_ there would be no need to hang over whoever-it-was every second of the tutoring sessions. She would be able to use some of the time to work on her own assignments while whoever she ended up tutoring was doing their work. It even might free up time somewhere else in her overcrowded schedule.

“How many hours?” Ratchet asked bluntly. “I’m going to end up with make-up work pretty often and _some_ people get carried away when they assign it.”

“I’m going to have to talk to Perceptor about that.” Rodimus muttered, dragging a hand down her face. “Two or three times a week, in hour or hour-and-a-half sessions. That’s the minimum time Deltaran wants for something like this and you’ll be able to reduce or drop your external interest coursework entirely depending on the subjects you’re helping your tutor-ee with.”

On the whole, this tutoring thing sounded like an excellent trade to Ratchet.

_Good. I hate poetry_.

“Alright. I’ll give it a try”

“Excellent. Magnus or I will get in touch with you about it next week to arrange the first tutoring session and introduce you two.” Rodimus looked relieved and Ratchet suddenly wondered just _how_ badly off this other student was.

_And_ who they were.

A horrible idea occurred to her.

_Shit, what if it’s Cliffjumper?_

A banging sound from out in the corridor and the sound of the Principal’s muffled voice raised in anger interrupted them before Ratchet could ask about the other student’s identity.

“Whoops, looks like Mags is awake.” Rodimus jumped out of her chair and darted to the staffroom door. “You’d better nip off now, so you don’t miss the next bus. Have a good weekend, Ratchet!”

Ratchet stood and picked her bag up, obeying without thinking and heading in the opposite direction to the irate sounds coming from Ultra Magnus’ office. She automatically checked the first window she passed and got a pleasant surprise.

The rain had stopped. If she was lucky she might be able to get to the bus stop before it started again.

_It was sunny this morning; I didn’t think I’d_ need _my umbrella._

She must have been waiting outside Mugnus’ office longer than she thought, because the sports clubs had just finished and Ratchet was caught in the second exodus of students leaving school grounds. Half-hoping to catch Wing and walk with her Ratchet slowed her steps past the Kendo hall, only to remember that the other girl had said something about having to skip training today.

_Wing’s got that stupid night school thing today, I think_.

Ratchet stopped dawdling, moving to the side of the footpath when she heard someone on a bicycle coming up behind her. Instead of passing her the person on the bike slowed and came up alongside her.

“Hey, Ratchet.”

“Drift.”

She held her breath and hoped Drift would continue on past.

Obviously any luck left over from the tutoring thing had been used up by the weather.

“You’re not usually still here this late.” Drift observed. Ratchet bit her tongue and swallowed a sarcastic retort. “Are you ok?”

The concern in Drift’s voice sounded genuine and Ratchet risked a glance sideways.

Drift’s brow was slightly furrowed in a frown; her head was tilted sideways to look at Ratchet as she stood on the pedals, gliding effortlessly along beside the redhead as she walked. The red chunks in her silvery hair had grown out a little and faded from the bright fire-engine colour they had been a few weeks ago. Some loose strands blew across Drift’s face and Ratchet resisted the urge to reach up and tuck them back behind Drift’s ear. The determined look on the younger woman’s face as she sat down to bring their faces to the same level meant Ratchet wasn’t getting off the hook lightly so she gave in and answered the question.

“I’m fine. Just had to talk to Rodimus and Principal Magnus about next year.”

Ratchet hoped in vain that it would be enough to satisfy Drift’s curiosity.

“Next year?” Drift glanced ahead, swerving to avoid a puddle and come back to coast slowly alongside Ratchet again. “What are your plans for after finishing school here?”

Sighing, Ratchet looked up at the sky.

The clouds were dark and threatening but it didn’t look like it was about to start raining again any time soon and chase Drift away. She didn’t know where this sudden interest of Drift’s was coming from. Something had changed during the holidays and Ratchet just didn’t know what it was. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what it was, either. Their comfortable routine of snarking and bickering seemed to be becoming something Ratchet didn’t want to examine too closely.d

She didn’t know what would be worse; if Drift was just pretending to care or if she actually did.

_Stop being friendly and just leave me alone._ Please _. I don’t need any more complications in my life right now!_

A traitorous little curl of warmth at the knowledge that Drift cared –or at least pretended to care- tried to form in the pit of her belly and Ratchet squashed it _hard_. She couldn’t afford to get tangled up wondering about what might or might not happen. All Ratchet could do was to continue treating the younger woman the same way she always had and hope that Drift got the message.

It wasn’t that Ratchet didn’t _appreciate_ the friendliness; she honestly did. But past experience had taught her to be wary of someone who suddenly switched from being hostile to trying to be your friend.

Nothing good _ever_ came of situations like that.

“I’m going to apply to Deltaran, for the School of Medicine.” Ratchet kept her tone distant and polite. “Magnus and Rodimus are helping me manage the extra work I need to do since our school doesn’t offer all the subjects that you need to get into Deltaran.”

“Deltaran. Huh.” It wasn’t surprising that Drift knew the name, but the lack of scorn in her voice definitely was. “That’s got, like, the best school of medicine in the entire country, right?”

_How the_ hell _does she know that?! That’s not exactly common knowledge!_

“Yeah.”

“It’s gonna take a _lot_ of work to get in there.” Drift observed, sounding worried about something. “I’m glad Magnus is helping you with the entry stuff.”

Wondering what on earth was going on, Ratchet picked up her pace as fat drops of rain began to fall again. The bus stop wasn’t far and if she was quick she could make it there without getting completely soaked. She didn’t want to be rude and just run off on Drift, as tempting as it was. It was nice to actually _talk_ for a change instead of trading smart jabs.

“Hey, how are you getting home?” Drift asked, standing on her pedals again to catch up to Ratchet. “You’re not walking in this, are you?”

“Bus, the stop is just up there.” Ratchet waved vaguely, wondering if it would be worth trying to hold her bag over her head to try to keep the rain off.

Suddenly the rain stopped hitting her and Ratchet looked up to see why. Her head whipped around and the redhead gaped at Drift who was guiding her bike with one hand and using the other to hold an open umbrella over Ratchet’s head. There was a shy version of Drift’s usual cheeky grin on her face and Ratchet felt her chest go tight.

“That’s dangerous, you know.” Ratchet blurted and immediately wanted to find a lamppost and smack her head against it a few times.

_It wouldn’t kill you to say ‘thank you’, you know._

“Then you carry it until we get to the bus stop.” Drift said, holding the umbrella out.

Their fingers brushed as Ratchet took the umbrella and the wind gusted, making them both shiver. Ratchet didn’t know what to say and apparently Drift was happy to ride quietly beside her so long as Ratchet held the umbrella high enough to keep as much of the rain off  both of them as she could. Walking along with her arm in the air felt extremely silly but Ratchet figures it was better than forcing Drift to try to manage both the bike and umbrella.

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the sound of rain on the umbrella and traffic hissing past until they reached the bus stop. Ratchet’s fingers tingled as she handed the umbrella back to Drift, suddenly reluctant to lose the company.

“So, um, do you have anything planned for after you finish school?” Ratchet asked, “Or… do you… not know yet?”

Drift took her umbrella back but didn’t ride off, fiddling with the handle and not meeting Ratchet’s eyes.

“I was thinking about maybe trying for the national team. You know, for Kendo.” For someone who was normal brimming with confidence and aggression Drift sounded strangely unsure of herself. “Wing and Axe think that if I train hard enough I could even make the Olympic team. Thought, with my grades I’ll probably just end up in a gang or something. It’s not like I can afford night school so I can get them high enough to get a scholarship or anything.”

It was weird seeing Drift look and sound so unsure. That treacherous little curl of warmth from earlier snuck upwards and squeezed itself into a knot in Ratchet’s chest. Her hands itched to reach out, to rub Drift’s arm or even hug the younger woman so Ratchet crossed them over her chest instead and gave Drift a long, considering look.

“I don’t know much about Axe but Wing doesn’t say stuff like that for the hell of it, you know.” Ratchet said firmly. “If she thinks you’ve got it in you then you most likely do.”

The look Drift gave her was one of startled, wide-eyed gratitude and she was opening her mouth to say something when a bus pulled up, blowing their hair everywhere. Ratchet shoved her unruly tangles back with both hands and checked the number showing on the bus’ LED display.

Her heart sank when she saw it.

“This your bus?” Drift asked, her expression suddenly polite and neutral.

“Yeah.”

“Ok then. See you tomorrow!”

Folding her umbrella up and stuffing it through the straps of her backpack Drift took off into the rain, leaving Ratchet staring after her, wondering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shades 'Met' McGreyson threw a coffee bribe at this, so the awkward almost-flirting got moved up the writing schedule.  
> (And if you think Ratchet is going to be tutoring Drift, you're so right! Isn't THAT going to be a fun discovery for both of them!)


	5. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus and Magnus make a little wager.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I don't know where this bit came from but Rodimus wouldn't shut up and suddenly these two characters are demanding their own subplot.  
>  This is sort-of an interlude chapter because it got a little too long to work tucked in at the start of the next one like I had planned. Splitting them up made everything work better even though it means MORE things to juggle 0.0;  
> Thank you to the person who nudged this fic. I'm sorry this bit isn't longer :/

 “Are you sure this is going to work?” It was the closest Rodimus could come to asking Magnus if the Principal had finally lost her mind. “If they make it more than ten minutes without getting into a fight it’ll be a miracle.

All Magnus did was smile, something Rodimus wished she’d do more often.

“Trust me, Rodimus.” Magnus said, shifting a small mountain of completed paperwork to the side so she could lean her forearms on the desk and give the vice-principal a knowing look. “This will work.”

Averting her eyes from the way Magnus’ shirt caught and stretched across her broad shoulders when the other woman leaned that way and the way the silver strands in the older woman’s hair blazed like burning magnesium in the evening sunlight, Rodimus ran her hands through her hair and snorted sceptically.

“Yeah, right.” Rodimus said to a _very_ interesting corner of the ceiling. “Twenty bucks says one of them walks out as soon as they figure out we’ve got them working together.”

“You’re on.”

Rodimus’ eyes snapped back to the principal to find Magnus watching her intently. There was something about the way the other woman had taken her offhand figure of speech literally and the expression on Magnus’ face that made Rodimus curious.

“Alright.” Rodimus said, mirroring Magnus’ pose and grinning at her across the temporarily shared office space. “Twenty bucks says one of them legs it tomorrow.”

“And if you’re wrong you will have something more nutritious than leftover pizza for lunch.” Magnus said, almost too fast. “Preferably something with at least _one_ vegetable in it.”

It took a few moments for that to process and then Rodimus burst into laughter, resting her forehead on her desk and waving a finger vaguely in Magnus’ direction while she tried to get herself under control. In a weird, convoluted way Rodimus thought it almost sounded like Ultra Magnus was trying to ask her out for lunch. Of course, if Magnus really wanted to have a business lunch she could just schedule one, and if she wanted to go on a date, then…

 _Nah, Mags is straighter than her slide rule. And even if she wasn’t I’m_ so _not her type._

 “That’s a good one.” Rodimus chortled, slowly getting herself under control “Awesome, you’re on. _If_ this works I’ll eat all the rabbit food you like. Happy?”

“Yes.”

By the time Rodimus raised her head from the desk and carefully wiped at her watering eyes the Principal’s eternal dignity was back in full force, marred only by a moderately self-satisfied expression.

“You, happy. That’s got to be a first.” Rodimus observed. “It’s almost a pity that you’re gonna lose.”

The corners of Magnus’ rather full lips twitched as she pulled a fresh stack of paperwork from her in-tray.

“We’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus is so ridiculously active she can eat everything in sight and still just burns right through it. She's got more muscle than you'd think for her build, and muscle needs energy just sitting still. (Looking like a more muscled version of the first holoform we got for Rodimus in MTMTE)  
> In my head I see this lady!Magnus as built like a sturdier Gwendolyn Christie with a slightly softer version of IDW Magnus' face.


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet and Drift get some unpleasant news.  
> Wing sees (and knows) far more than she lets on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the year between updates, I tend to get really homesick and have nightmares when I work on this fic so I avoid it more than I should :/ Should just push on and get it done with, making everything have a fictitious happy ending would probably be good for me ^.^;

Ratchet’s day began with a written message from Rodimus, asking her to report to the Vice-Principal’s shared office space during her supposedly free period after lunch to discuss the tutoring arrangement. She immediately turned to Wing, expecting _some_ sympathy. Her friend was struggling under the academic expectations of her parents and knew just how valuable that study time was, but there was no sympathy to be found. Every grumble was ignored and Wing actually spent the entirety of the lunch hour grinning from ear to ear.

 _If she knows something she’s not telling me I’m going to kick her ass_ so _hard._

Wing actually had the gall to escort Ratchet as far as the teachers’ office corridor at the end of lunch, taking off as soon as the bell rang, leaving a quietly fuming Ratchet to turn the corner by herself. When she did, Ratchet saw a distinctly uncomfortable-looking Drift leaning against the wall beside Magnus’ office door. She was looking away from Ratchet, chewing at a fingernail on one hand while the other fiddled with her phone.

 _What is_ she _doing here_?

The red streaks in Drift’s hair were fading badly now; they were a soft rose-pink that Ratchet didn’t think suited Drift’s personality at all, even if it worked nicely with her skin and the shocked blue eyes that turned in her direction. For some inexplicable reason Ratchet swallowed the sarcastic remark she usually would have made and jerked her head in an awkward nod of greeting instead.

Before either of them could say anything the door beside Drift opened and Rodimus’ head popped out, scanning the corridor and lighting up with a smile when she saw the two teenagers standing awkwardly in the hall.

“Come on in you two; we’ll get this sorted out while Magnus still has coffee in her veins.” Rodimus said cheerfully.

“I _heard_ that, Rodimus.” Magnus’ voice was just loud enough to be heard in the corridor.

A horrible suspicion began to form in Ratchet’s mind as she obediently followed Drift into the office and Rodimus closed the door behind them. Ratchet took one of the two seats Magnus indicated, Drift perching nervously on the edge of the other and doing nothing for Ratchet’s peace of mind. When the deputy principal wandered over and leaned against Magnus’s desk the larger woman pinched the bridge of her nose briefly and Ratchet bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

_I think Rodimus really likes her._

It wasn’t hard to not-smile when Magnus explained why they were both there.

In fact, Ratchet was on the verge of getting up and walking out.

If she hadn’t needed the extra credit to get into Deltaran so badly, she _would_ have.

That was Ultra Magnus’ brilliant idea, a way to answer the problems in front of both young women; ‘killing two birds with one stone’ as Rodimus put it.

Problem: Ratchet needed to make entry requirements for Deltaran University.

Problem: Drift was (apparently) in dire need of extra tutoring to make it through the current academic year.

Solution: Have Ratchet tutor Drift, ensuring she would make entry requirements and that Drift would have the extra help she needed to pass.

 _Apparently_ they both had two free periods at the same time each week that could be used for these tutoring sessions. Ratchet had honestly had no idea about this; she’d never seen Drift in the library during her own free periods so she’d assumed the younger woman was in class.

_Or maybe they’re rearranging schedules to make this work? Pulling Drift from a class she can afford to miss or something._

Ratchet forced herself not to protest, trying to focus on what _really_ mattered. It didn’t matter that Drift usually pestered her incessantly when she wasn’t acting weird, it didn’t matter that Ratchet was attracted to the second-year student. What mattered was getting into Deltaran, and this would help her do it.

_It’s only until the end of the year. You can manage it._

 

### ~V~V~V~

 

Drift couldn’t believe it.

When she’d seen Ratchet coming down the corridor she’d thought that the redhead was just passing by, taking a shortcut to get somewhere else, and then when Rodimus called them both in she thought that _maybe_ Ratchet had complained about her and this was some sort of mediated confrontation.

But it wasn’t.

 _Ratchet_ was going to be the one tutoring Drift so she had a real chance of passing the academic year.

 _Oh fuck_ yes!

The older girl didn’t seem to be too thrilled about it, but Drift couldn’t really blame her. _Everyone_ knew Ratchet had major ambitions, so she’d probably resent Drift for taking up her precious study time. It was only two hours a week, but Drift knew she would probably need more help than you could really fit into two hours. Glancing sideways at the redhead, Drift wondered if Ratchet would think she was stupid for needing to be tutored in the first place.

_Why does it matter what she thinks, anyway?_

It was going to be hard to miss the twice-weekly naps in the safety of the Kendo changing rooms, but Drift figured she’d just find a way to deal with it. After promising to meet Ratchet in the library for the first tutoring session the next day, they were told to get to class and shooed out of Rodimus’ office.

In the corridor Drift hesitated, wanting to say something to Ratchet. Maybe apologise for stealing her study time or thank her for agreeing to help. The sound of Ratchet’s shoes slapping on the lino as she stomped away solved the problem for her. Drift turned around just in time to see Ratchet’s bag and the end of her mane of hair whip out of sight around the corner.

 _Wow,_ thanks _Ice Queen._

Sighing, Drift headed for class, hoping she hadn’t missed too much.

 

### ~V~V~V~

 

Wing couldn’t keep the grin off her face as Ratchet stormed into history late and sat down with a thump, glaring at her the whole time.

“You _knew_ , didn’t you.” She hissed, just low enough not to be heard.

“ _May_ be.” Wing’s tone clearly said she was guilty as charged.

“You’re so fucking _dead_.” Ratchet growled, hauling her pencil case and folder from her bag and slamming them onto her desk.

“Love you too, bestest best friend in the whole wide world.” Wing whispered as Professor Atlas called the class back to order.

The look Ratchet gave could have stripped paint. Wing smothered a laugh; Ratchet’s reaction made the weeks of biting her tongue completely worth it.

 _I can’t_ wait _to hear Drift’s take on things at practice._

Drift was strangely close-mouthed on the subject of her new tutor, making noncommittal sounds or changing the subject whenever Wing brought it up. It took nearly a week for Wing to get anything more articulate than a shrug out of the younger woman.

Even then it was so frustratingly neutral a response that Wing wanted to scream. Especially because a couple of times she’d overheard Drift ripping into people who were apparently teasing her about being ‘forced’ to spend time with Ratchet.

“Yeah, she’s ok I guess.” Drift said as they locked up the changing rooms after practice one night. “She’s way better than Prissy Percy at explaining chemistry crap.”

“I think Perceptor’s just angry about having to teach at a high school,” Wing mused, shouldering her bag and leading the way to the bike racks. “So he takes it out on us by making things sound way more complicated than they should. At least, that’s what Ratchet says.”

Drift didn’t respond as she unlocked her bike. Glancing over, Wing caught a glimpse of a soft little smile on Drift’s face before she noticed Wing looking and it vanished.

“Sounds like something Ratchet would say.” Drift said before saying goodnight and taking off towards the gates at her usual breakneck speed.

Whenever someone tried to tease Ratchet the same way the redhead would either ignore them or give an icy basilisk stare Wing remembered far too well. It still send shivers down her spine whenever she saw it aimed at someone in a situation where there was clear space between Ratchet and her potential target.

 _I_ still _can’t believe that Sena’s parents didn’t press charges…_

With this in mind, Wing made sure to stick close whenever she could. Admittedly Ratchet was a better at controlling her temper than she had been, but with the amount of stress she was under Wing wouldn’t be surprised if the redhead slipped a bit.

It was hard for Wing to keep a rein on her own teasing, especially when she got to witness first-hand the way Ratchet sometimes arrived from tutoring Drift blushing right to the roots of her hair. Ratchet knowing how much pressure Wing’s parents were putting on her brought some indulgence, but not much.

Somehow, Wing managed to toe the line of Ratchet’s tolerance while she waited impatiently for things to develop.

 _Seriously, they’re not stupid! They’ve_ got _to figure it out soon!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank-you to the Patrons who voted for this fic in the april update poll. Another chapter coming in the next week ^.^


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite a rocky start the tutoring (and the relationship between Ratchet and Drift) seems to go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very late because I got one of the flu-like viruses going around and it annihilated me for a little over a week -.-; Sorry if it's not quite up to scratch >.<

The first couple of tutoring sessions had been awkward as all hell.

Drift hadn’t really expected Ratchet to be _friendly_ , but the outright hostility she got was completely uncalled-for and she could have done without it. It took all of Drift’s self-control and then some for her to resist the urge to just slap Ratchet. Somehow she managed to control herself and stick to make her own sarcastic comments.

_Wonder if those old rumours about her are true, though._

Being annoyed with the older girl _did_ make it a lot easier for Drift to ignore…things.

Like the way Ratchet always chewed on her lip when she was thinking hard and the way her hair caught the light when she was bent over a book. How her eyes could focus in a way that made you feel like you were under a microscope or the way Drift’s heart beat faster whenever Ratchet got that _look_ on her face and started angrily decimating the characters of certain teachers after seeing their red-inked comments on some of Drift’s older homework assignments.

It didn’t help with the way Wing pestered her about the tutoring arrangement and Ratchet nearly every day at Kendo practice. Drift gritted her teeth, held her tongue and channelled her anger into training. Eventually Wing picked up on Drift’s frustration, or else she just changed tactics, because she stopped badgering and began sharing stories of a younger, less surly Ratchet.

 _Huh. I didn’t realise they’d known each other for_ that _long._

Then one day Drift responded to something Ratchet said with a cutting remark about something related to an essay question she was struggling with, one that actually made the older girl _smile_.

That smile was so unexpected Drift almost forgot to breathe, staring until Ratchet flushed and looked away, obviously uncomfortable.

 _Wow. I didn’t know she could_ look _like that. Wow…_

That moment marked the beginning of ‘The Great Thaw’ (as Jazz put it) and the tutoring sessions started going a lot easier. Ratchet wasn’t exactly what she would call ‘genial’, (something from a vocabulary test) but she was much easier to get along with. Her sarcastic comments turned into friendly trash-talking instead of trying to put Drift down or push her away.

Slowly it got easier for Drift to try teasing back; and in return Ratchet the Ice Queen would defrost a little more each time.

In fact, Drift was finding it easier to contort her brain through some of the assigned problems after a few minutes of exchanging snark with the redhead, and Ratchet never let the current score of their unofficial banter contest get in the way of helping Drift as best she could whenever Drift asked for help.

Whenever Drift thought of this, it gave her a feeling of satisfaction almost as strong as the first essay she got back with a solid passing mark on.

“Geeze Drift, calm _down_. It’s just a C.” Cliffjumper grumbled when Drift couldn’t stop bringing the subject up at lunch. “Do you want a gold star or something?”

That had given Drift an idea, leading her feet towards the magazine aisle when she went to buy food for the week. Next to the cards, just where she remembered, were some random packs stickers. Something vaguely star-shaped made it into her basket and Drift blushed all the way through checking out, as if the cashier could somehow read her mind and figure out what they were for.

Despite the potential embarrassment it still made Drift feel proud when she saw the sheet of paper taped to the fridge.

It gained another one of those silly little stars for every single passing grade she got.

 

### ~V~V~V~

 

Despite her worries at the start, Ratchet found that she was actually starting to _enjoy_ the time spent with Drift. The younger women turned out to be brighter than anyone seemed to think and caught on quickly once things were explained to her. She worked far harder than Ratchet had expected her to, freshly re-dyed hair a blaze of candycane brightness as she frowned at Perceptor’s latest torture assignment for chemistry.

Drift’s scathing description of Perceptor’s personality and skills as a teacher echoed in Ratchet’s mind and she chewed on the end of her pen to hide a smile. For some weird reason the younger woman hadn’t made any obnoxious personal remarks during the tutoring sessions and had even toned it down whenever they ran into each other outside of their twice-weekly meetings.

What had started out as barely-veiled bickering during tutoring Drift (at least on Ratchet’s part; she would admit that much) had turned somehow turned into comfortable bantering, although some of Drift’s teasing had started to make her blush.

After a couple of weeks Ratchet started looking forward to the few hours each week they spent alone in the library.

_Once you get past her attitude she’s really not that bad…_

Ratchet’s conscience nagged at her for that but she squashed it, trying to force her brain through the slog of creating an essay for history class. It was hard to concentrate on the dry, boring facts in her class notes and turn them into equally dry, borings sentences at the best of times. With Drift sitting opposite her wearing that little satisfied smile she got when she’d finally solved an equation it was almost impossible.

_It’s not fair. She’s just so…_

“Hey, Ratchet?” Drift was looking at her, grin replaced by a serious (possibly even nervous) expression.

Suddenly Ratchet realised she’d been staring. Face burning with embarrassment she met Drift’s gaze as coolly as she could, daring the younger woman to make an issue of it.

“Yes?” Somehow she got the word out around the tightness in her throat.

 _What the fuck is_ wrong _with me?_

“So, um, term ends in a couple of weeks.” Drift fidgeted with her eraser, twisting it between her fingers. “You know, next week's that big tournament Wing is practicing for, and then its holidays.”

For the life of her Ratchet couldn’t figure out what Drift was getting at, or why she sounded so nervous. Pushing her hair out of her face with one hand, she leaned back in her chair and raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I know. So?”

“So I was wondering if you wanted to meet up a couple of times during the holidays?” Drift blurted, a faint pink tinge spreading on her cheeks. “I mean, so I’m a bit more caught up with everyone else at the start of next term. I don’t want you to not get into Deltaran because I fucked up and fell even more behind, or something.”

It was the last thing Ratchet expected. Her mind raced, thoughts tumbling over themselves and getting nowhere. The longer she stayed quiet the brighter Drift’s blush became and the strangely hopeful look on her face faded.

“That sounds fine.” The words emerged without permission, startling Ratchet almost as much as the brilliant smile Drift gave her.

The bell sounded, signalling the start of the next class. Drift jumped to her feet and started stuffing things back into her bag, swearing and muttering about needing to get to the other side of the school campus. Frozen to her chair as she watched Drift tear out of the library Ratchet wondered why it suddenly felt like her chest was full of something warm and fluttery.


End file.
